SFO Terminal Outbreath photo

Terminal Outbreath


You know my sighs, and yet,
I am a stranger to your knowing;
Though not your eyes, which,
Drinking in my flowing,
See me.
As vision sees the fleeting blink,
As petals bid farewell
To the last drop of dawn’s clear ink;
As the young bird triumphs, briefly,
in the uplift of a feathered wing
And even here,
In the stale air of boarded flyers gone,
Of distant vapour’s smell which thrust them on,
Of tiny crumbs where junior sat with mom
My sigh that knows no ears remains to kiss the emptied one

©Copyright Stephen Tanham 2015


4 Comments on “Terminal Outbreath

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